


Autumn Colours

by HyperLittleNori (Shiguresan)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Best Friends to Lovers, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Domesticity, Fluff, Human AU, M/M, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17118290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiguresan/pseuds/HyperLittleNori
Summary: He’s my guilty pleasure, Derek thought, unbidden. The thought struck him silently and suddenly and he jerked a little, glancing sideways to see Stiles’s gaze fixed on the TV as he sipped at his can of Pepsi. These quiet moments, they were what he lived for, what he loved and Stiles was such a big part of that, but it was more than that. He only wanted them with Stiles. He was his best friend but…more, too.





	Autumn Colours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tabbytabbytabby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabbytabbytabby/gifts).



> I was a back-up gift maker for the Sterek Secret Santa 2018 and wrote this for Tabbytabbytabby. You asked for "fluff, pining, human au, alive Laura, best friends to lovers" and I think I've managed to get that all in for you. I loved this little 'verse it made me feel so warm writing it so I hope you like it too :)

**Autumn Colours**

 

 This autumn had been warmer than usual so far, filled with a lazy kind of comfort that Derek hadn’t thought he would ever feel again. It hadn’t been easy, being raised by your big sister, a mere seven years older than you, living off money you only had because you had lost your family and home in a freak electrical fire. But sitting there, his legs hanging limply over the arm of the overstuffed armchair in the warm living room of the apartment that had been his home for a few years now, he was struck by the fact that he was doing okay.

 

 The whole apartment was dressed with homely colours and soft furniture rather than sharp modern lines and cold appliances. Laura had made it a home for them, not just a place to try and get by. She’d somehow managed to get herself through college and in just a year’s time, she’d be able to say she’d put her taciturn baby brother through high school too.

 

 Derek could just about hear the hairdryer from the bathroom down the hall, signalling Laura was getting ready for work. That and the soft hum of the TV, the smell of the fresh muffins Stiles had picked up from the bakery on his way round just gave everything that comforting, cosy aura. He smiled absently before looking back to his notes propped up on his bent knees.

 

 Stiles was sprawled out on his belly on the soft rug below, the warm sun beaming down on his back through the closed balcony doors. Stiles glanced up every now and again at the TV, before returning to the heavy textbook open in front of him, a highlighter in each hand and one in his mouth. He mumbled around it in greeting as Laura walked in, shrugging on a blazer and making a beeline for the kitchen island where the muffins sat temptingly.

 

 It was their routine. They were over at each other’s houses more often than not, but Laura had a late shift at the crisis centre she managed on Fridays so Stiles always stayed over. His socked feet swayed in the air, unwittingly, unconsciously bumping one of Derek’s legs.

 

 It hadn’t been easy, letting someone stay so close, but when his world had fallen apart, Laura and Stiles had been the only constant things in his life and for all his flaws, Stiles hadn’t let him down. They’d known each other for as long as Derek could remember, they’d faced Stiles losing his mom, Derek losing his family and here they were, high school seniors and still driving each other crazy.

 

 They’d grown up together and that gave Derek a security with Stiles that he didn’t feel with anyone else. Stiles knew the worst things about him, every one of his flaws and he still smiled at Derek like he hung the moon. It was so different to the trust, the connection Derek had with Laura. It gave him little pulses in his belly sometimes, made his mouth go a little dry, even as he thumped Stiles on the arm for saying something stupid or as they ate lunch together at school. They were perfectly domestic, inconsequential little moments that Derek treasured more than any others, because they all added up to the realisation of how slowly but surely, life was getting better. He was okay.

 

 “…back quite late, the centre has been busy lately and I’ve got a new social worker coming in that specialises in older kids, so don’t wait up for me, okay?”

 

  Derek nodded at his sister, only just catching the end of what she said.

 

 “There’s money for pizza on the counter,” she added as she swept her long dark hair back and twisted it into a casual but neat bun. For all her youth, she had managed to raise a teenage boy with a firm hand and her work at the crisis centre she’d helped raise from the ground had been praised by everyone that mattered. They were both doing good, he supposed, although he had undoubtedly become quieter after the fire, whereas she was as vivacious as ever, almost to spite it. She was a lot like Stiles, pushing through things by talking constantly, whereas Derek tended to bottle it up and hold it in until one of them nagged it out of him. He was lucky to have such bubbly loudmouths in his life.

 

 “See you later,” she chimed brightly, if a little rushed as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for the muffins Stiles!”

 

 “Hmphrghh,” Stiles returned graciously, lips still wrapped around a highlighter pen as she whisked out the door in a whirlwind. They studied for a while after that, knowing from habit that once they stopped they (or Stiles) would be easily distracted. When the pizza arrived, that seemed like a good stopping point as any though.

 

 “Have you sent in any applications yet?” Stiles asked, plucking up his fourth slice of pizza. “ _UC Beacon County_ want their deadlines by the start of December, it’s pretty competitive up there since they got all those awards for their new science and technology programmes.”

 

 Derek watched as he lifted the slice of pizza slightly higher to catch the stringy trail of cheese trying to escape on his wayward tongue. He didn’t realise he was staring until Stiles looked at him enquiringly for an answer, mouth full of pizza.

 

 “Yeah, all sent. It’s only an hour away. The history degree was what cinched it for me though, I guess.”

 

 They both understood the other, unspoken appeal of _University of California Beacon County_ though, neither of them wanted to be far from home. It was a desire, an insecurity, a need, whatever you wanted to label it, that both of them harboured and recognised in the other without the need to articulate it. It was the perfect example of their friendship, Derek thought, they talked, they joked, they spent time together and the things that really mattered they saw in each other without the other having to say a word.

 

 Stiles snorted, an inelegant enough sound even without pizza added into the mix.  “My shy history nerd, I’m gonna be the cool kid on campus compared to you,” Stiles laughed, “All those wasted muscles.” They had been sitting on the rug with their backs against the sofa and the food spread out on the coffee table in front of them and Stiles leaned in to pinch at Derek’s toned bicep teasingly through his long-sleeved sweater. As he did so, Derek snatched the last slice of pizza off his knee.

 

 “Hey!” Stiles cried as Derek lifted the last slice to his lips. He lunged forward and snatched a bite out of the end just as Derek had been about to, looking victorious.

 

 Derek just raised a brow at him and shoved the entire remainder of the pizza into his mouth, accepting the challenge.

 

 “Indirect kiss!” Stiles crowed, both outraged and amused, laughing as Derek struggled to chew his huge mouthful. “Oh my God, we’ve known each other too long,” he mused happily, nudging the textbooks completely out of the way with his socked toes so he could sprawl more comfortably beside Derek on the rug. “That documentary you wanted to see on Ancient Rome is on in a sec.”

 

 It was nice, someone knowing your little quirks and indulging them. Stiles had his own entertainment preferences of course, he was smart but history wasn’t really his thing. He seemed to just like seeing Derek happy though, that Derek still had passions, interests and was more often than not just content to sit beside him watching crappy documentaries or watching _NCIS_ or _The Sentinel_ re-runs. It was their guilty pleasure.

 

  _He’s my guilty pleasure,_ Derek thought, unbidden. The thought struck him silently and suddenly and he jerked a little, glancing sideways to see Stiles’s gaze fixed on the TV as he sipped at his can of _Pepsi._ These quiet moments, they were what he lived for, what he loved and Stiles was such a big part of that, but it was _more_ than that. He only wanted them with Stiles. He was his best friend but…more, too.

 

 Moistening his lips, Derek sipped at his own drink, if only for something to do, to keep his mouth busy, because he didn’t want to say something stupid and yet the urge had swelled in him as the night wore on, fuelled by the casual closeness and the warm afternoon as it waned.

 

 Stiles chattered intermittently as they watched the TV, stretching his long legs out in front of him down the side of the coffee table, leaving Derek to cross his, as the table was mostly in front of him, but he didn’t mind. It felt nice. It was all nice, it was just that he had felt this shift in his feelings lately and he didn’t know how to explain them to himself, much less articulate them to Stiles.

 

 In the ad-break, he got up to put the pizza boxes in the recycling bin and wash his hands and Stiles went to the bathroom. Derek took a seat on the sofa this time but when Stiles returned, instead of sitting beside him as the documentary came back on, he sat on the rug by Derek’s feet. Then it happened, Stiles tilted, just slightly, resting his head against Derek’s thigh, fingers coming up to rest there too, just under his chin.

 

 Derek’s pulse quickened and he shifted, almost imperceptibly to give Stiles a little more room to rest there more comfortably. He stretched his fingers out, hesitating for a brief moment, before threading his shaking fingers through Stiles’s hair. He swallowed when Stiles twitched, then relaxed again, resting his hand there in subtle but perfect intimacy.

 

 Something in his chest tightened to the point of suffocation. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice low, almost smoky. Stiles nodded against his leg. “You’re quiet, that’s…not like you.”

 

 Slowly, so slowly, Stiles lifted his head and turned to face Derek, his long fingers still splayed across the denim of Derek’s thigh like a brand, gripping a little as if he were afraid if he let go, his anchor would come loose and they would both be lost on the swelling tide of heat between them. It had been building in Stiles too, Derek realised, as those warm, honey-hued eyes lifted almost shyly to look at him. That unexplainable feeling of being close to someone in more ways than even the strongest of friendships could quantify.

 

 Stiles was more, so much more.

 

 Bathed in the golden afternoon light streaming in through the windows and balcony doors, Stiles shifted to kneel between Derek’s knees, studying his face, staring up at him enquiringly, as if reading Derek’s thoughts as easily as he’d always done. When Stiles leant in a little, he raised his fingers to Derek’s chest, where they rested in an almost question. A little smile flickered across the bow of Stiles’s lips.

 

 “Your heart is pounding,” he whispered.

 

 Derek let his own gaze drift to Stiles’s mouth, then back to his eyes. He said nothing.

 

 “Because you like me.” Stiles said it so quietly, in awe but with such self-assurance. It hadn’t been a question .

 

“You scare the shit out of me,” Derek breathed out all in a rush.

 

 Stiles’s lips twitched. “Liar.” He moved as if to lean in but then stopped. He licked his lips. “Umm, can I…? I want to try something, if you want, that is.”

 

 Derek gave a soft little laugh, “you’re such a dork,” he said, but it was all affection. He looked down then and Stiles instinctively followed his gaze, watching as, perilously slowly, Derek lifted his forefinger and traced it feather-light across Stiles’ knuckles where they rested on his chest. Then his hand flattened to cover Stiles’s and Stiles pushed up and in to bring their lips together, rushing in with what felt like his last vestiges of courage.

 

 It was a little wet press of lips that deepened into a clumsy slide of lips. It was messy and terrifying and perfect because he was kissing his best friend, he was simultaneously outing himself to his best friend and helplessly falling for him all in one electrifying moment.

 

 He’d had urges for boys and girls and he’d always thought Stiles knew, based on what he’d glimpsed from Derek’s search history on his laptop that one time, but he’d never spoken about it, he’d never said and now…

 

  _Oh God, it’s Stiles,_ he couldn’t help but think, over and over again as Stiles shifted closer between his legs, making him feel giddy and years younger than his seventeen, nearly eighteen years. _It’s Stiles and it’s me._

“Hey,” Stiles breathed against his lips, even though his voice was shaky and his breathing rough, the fingers Derek wasn’t holding to his chest reaching up. They hesitated again, so much hesitation between them that afternoon, their casual tactile friendship shifting into the place they apparently had both been yearning for.

 

 When Stiles’s fingers touched his cheek, Derek tilted his chin forward to kiss him again. It was deeper this time, searching and as they kissed, as they slowly learned the other’s rhythm to not bump noses or teeth, all the little insecurities and tendrils of fear burned out like splinters of wood on a simmering coal-bed. Not fiery and all consuming, but warm and comforting.

 

 Stiles was his best friend and so much more and it was all okay.

 

 Derek’s free hand slid round to Stiles’s nape, gripping gently and urging him up onto the sofa with him. It was a squeeze with long limbs and shifting but it was all the sweeter for the inexpert closeness, the shiny newness and comfort of it.

 

 In between kisses and slow caresses, he exhaled shakily against Stiles’s cheeks, kissed tentatively at Stiles’s ear, his jaw. Stiles made soft sounds in answer, holding him close. In autumn colours they saw in the evening with exploring, languid kisses, until kiss-bruised and lazy with intimacy, they just lay curled up together, watching the _Ancient Egypt_ documentary that had come on after the one on _Rome_.

 

 “Want. Change. Channel,” Stiles groaned softly, stretching out a foot, “but. Too. Comfy.”

 

 Derek snorted into the back of his neck, the arm he had wrapped around Stiles’s chest shifting to trap his arm there too and his leg hooking over to keep the wayward foot from snagging the controller off the coffee table. “No. Watch it, you might learn something.” He felt a so warm there, wrapped up with Stiles and judging by the limp body in his arms Stiles felt the same.

 

 “Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked after a beat. “This isn’t going to be weird, right? You and me? We’re okay, right?”

 

 Derek thought about that evening, when Stiles would curl up on the pull-out bed in his room like he usually did on Fridays, or the following morning when his perceptive sister would guess something was up and he’d have to tell her. He thought of Monday morning at school and yeah, perhaps it wouldn’t all be as easy as it felt right then but that didn’t put him off. It didn’t scare him away. He pressed subtly into Stiles’s neck and just breathed.

 

 “We’re more than okay,” he said softly.

 

THE END


End file.
